NO THUMB BC NO TIME ALSO I SUCK AT DRAWING Shadow picked at the tweed jacket nervously, his prop axe held in hand. It was a red, itchy thing with yellow stripes that were both vertical and horizontal, and as simple as he could get the designers to allow. Shadow hated it and it's itchiness, but the outfit designers had assured him that it was necessary to complete the lumberjack look, which Shadow found perfectly ridiculous. There was no way anyone would take him for a lumberjack, ever. But it was too late now. He could only hope that they were right, and remember what they had told him. He hopped into the chariot, just as a loud voice rolled around the area welcoming District 7. The chariot started rolling, and Shadow took a deep breath, put on a smile, and poked his head out from the chariot window, axe resting on his shoulder. The noise was deafening, and Shadow nearly hid back in the chariot, but he forced himself to keep his head out. Shadow smiled and waved at the crowd, yet the smile felt exceedingly fake on his face. /When was the last time I smiled genuinely?/ he wondered. /Have I ever smiled before?/ He didn't know, which bothered him. The chariot reached the end of the track, and as the door opened, Shadow stepped out and back into the comforting silence of the building where the tributes resided, wondering about when he had last smiled. He was still thinking about it when he fell asleep that night.
credits to dream for the speedrunning music i listened to while doing this
